The Mentalist: Santa Jane
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Where does Jane go every Christmas Eve? Leave it to Agent Lisbon to find out. Fluffy Christmas fic, set around Season 1. Hint of Jisbon.


**A/N: It just wouldn't be Christmas without a** ** _Mentalist_** **fic, so here is my unapologetically fluffy contribution, set around Season 1. (You can tell I've been watching a lot of Hallmark Christmas movies.) Hope you enjoy it.**

 **Santa Jane**

 _This is the year_ , thought Lisbon. She would finally solve the mystery that was Patrick Jane on every Christmas Eve since she'd known him. On that night, he would disappear, would not respond to calls or texts, would refuse working even ongoing cases despite her threats and cajoling.

"I don't work on Christmas Eve," he'd maintained just last year. "Sorry, Lisbon. You'll just have to muddle through without me. I'll see you tomorrow at Cho's mom's house."

And sure enough, as in year's past, he'd show up at Mrs. Cho's in Oakland for Christmas dinner, with a nice bottle of wine, or an elaborate dessert, or a fruit basket. Not a word about where he'd been or what he'd been doing the night before. He was all cheers and compliments to Mrs. Cho, for taking them all in since none of them had close family in the area besides her son. Sometimes Van Pelt would fly home for the holidays, and very rarely Lisbon, but if they were in the middle of a case, or at the end of one, no one in Serious Crimes could take off for long.

This year, Lisbon vowed, she would find out what Jane was up to. She would keep her distance, respect whatever he was doing (if it was legal, of course), but she told herself this curiosity of hers wasn't coming from a need to snoop or interfere. She was genuinely concerned that he might be in a bar alone somewhere, trying to drown his sad memories of his murdered family. People were often more depressed during the holidays, and Lisbon was very sensitive to those who might have suicidal tendencies. And if anyone had reason to end it all, it was Patrick Jane. She had personally witnessed a few of his moments of extreme despair, and frankly she was surprised they hadn't lost him long ago. He'd told her once, only half jokingly, that his desire to kill Red John was what kept him alive, and she believed him, but she also knew that sometimes the holidays could overwhelm a depressed person's best intentions.

Lisbon was tired of feeling frightened for him every Christmas Eve, and this year she wouldn't badger him about it, she'd just do what she was best at: unravel the mystery.

They had solved a case yesterday, and today, Christmas Eve, Lisbon had promised her team that if they got their paperwork finished, they could leave early. That was incentive enough that by two o'clock, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt had left the CBI building. She was about finished with her part too, but needed a break and a hit of caffeine. As she passed through the bull pen, she saw Jane on his couch, taking his usual post-lunch catnap. She walked over to him, her face softening at the peace she saw in his features only when he was sleeping. She also couldn't stop the tingle of pleasure she always felt when she could secretly admire his handsome face. She was about to walk away when he opened one blue-green eye to peer up at her. Lisbon felt her face warm in embarrassment. He gave her a sleepy grin.

"Canary watching, Miss Kitty? Should I be afraid?"

She managed a frown despite her flushed cheeks. "Just wondering if you finished your report. Everyone else took me up on my offer and were able to leave early."

Jane opened both eyes, then said over a yawn: "Why do you insist on insisting I do paperwork? You know I never do it. Van Pelt types up my notes and I sign them. I already did that."

"Well I hope you're paying her enough," Lisbon said, frown deepening. "But if that's the case, why are you still here? Don't you usually have big Christmas Eve plans?"

She was annoyed with herself for the not-so-subtle fishing, but she couldn't help it; sometimes the man just annoyed the hell out of her for no reason she could put her finger on.

"Not so big. But I do have plans. You know, I bet you could get a stand-by flight to Chicago, still could make it to your brothers' in time for the Lisbon Christmas goose."

She sighed. "Not this year. Last thing I want to do is wait all night in a crowded airport, not after the week we've had. No, I'm for home and some closed case pizza. Maybe catch _It's a Wonderful Life_ on TV. You want to join me?" Her offer was casual, but her heart gave a little thump, nonetheless. She didn't know whether it was because she wanted him to accept her invitation, or if she didn't so she could follow him wherever he planned to go.

Jane sat up on the couch, his hands sliding into his mussed up blond curls. Amazingly, his hair settled into its usual perfect tousled style. She shook her head once in awe. After another yawn and a quick stretch of his arms, he met her eyes.

"Thanks, Lisbon, but I must decline. We could ride together to Oakland tomorrow if you like."

"Oh, uh. Sure. Well, I was on my way for coffee. See you later."

"I've got awhile before I need to leave; mind if I join you in the breakroom for tea?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By five o'clock, Jane was once again sleeping on the couch and Lisbon was completely finished with her work. Surely, she thought, Jane would be leaving soon. With that in mind, she slipped out of the office without saying goodbye, got off the elevator and found her Mustang. It was already very dark outside, and the air had gone colder, the sky threatening rain.

She drove out of the parking lot, waved to the guard in the gatehouse, and drove down the street, only to back into a dark alley, where she could see the entrance to the CBI building without hopefully being seen by anyone else. She flipped off her lights, zipped her leather jacket, and waited.

Just ten minutes later, Jane's blue Citroen emerged, and she realized with a grin he'd been waiting for her to leave first. He drove past her car and she ducked down behind the steering wheel. He was heading in the opposite direction than the way that would have taken him to his cheap extended stay hotel off the freeway.

She waited a beat, then crept out onto the street, putting a car between them. Jane drove on after a stoplight, then continued straight, past the Capitol building. She wondered again about whether he would find a bar, wondered if he might be heading for the cemetery not far from here, where she knew his wife and child had been buried. She'd learned from his file that Angela Jane's family had been from Sacramento, so instead of their previous home in Malibu, mother and daughter had been laid to rest here, near Angela's parents. But Jane had never spoken about visiting their graves. As he continued driving down L Street, passing the cemetery and several bars, she began to realize her most logical suspicions had been wrong, chiding herself about even trying to predict what Patrick Jane might be up to.

Right before L Street ran into I-80, Jane pulled into the parking lot of a tall, white building: Sutter Medical Center.

 _Why was he going to a hospital?_

She hung back, drove around the block, returning to the lot just as Jane entered the building carrying a large, black trash bag.

"Curiouser and curiouser," she muttered aloud before parking, unbuckling and following him toward the glass door entrance.

She peeked in, saw he had stopped to speak with the volunteer receptionists at the information desk. They greeted him like they knew him, and Jane was smiling ear-to-ear. Of course the older women were eating that up. He left them and continued down the hall before taking a sudden right into the men's room.

Seizing her opportunity, Lisbon went inside, smiling as the receptionists greeted her and offered assistance.

"No thanks," she called politely, and walked down the hall as if she knew exactly why she was there.

She hid in the gift shop despite the clerk's warning they were about to close, her eyes on the restroom door. Just as the clerk gave her a last call, Jane stepped out of the bathroom, completely transformed. Her jaw dropped, but there was no mistaking him. She would know those sea green eyes anywhere, even though they were now shadowed by a fluffy white and red hat and framed by a white curly wig and beard. From the red and white fake fur coat, down to shiny black boots, matching wide belt encircling his newly padded girth, it all became clear; her consultant was moonlighting as the jolly red elf himself.

She watched as he threw the much less bulky bag over his shoulder and headed toward the elevator. Lisbon thanked the clerk and slipped out of the gift shop. She waited until Jane had gotten on the elevator before rushing to see what floor it stopped on. Less than a minute later, it stopped on three, and she pressed the call button. She was in luck; there were no other stops before the elevator opened again on the first floor.

Heart pounding with confusion and excitement, Lisbon took the lift back up to the third floor, peeking around the corner when the door opened in time to see that Santa Claus had stopped at the nurse's station. He seemed to be expected, and their smiles at seeing him were genuine. The walls of this floor were decorated for children, and she realized with a smile that they were on the pediatric floor. An overwhelming joy warmed her from the inside out, and she felt her eyes welling with unshed tears.

From a distance, she saw a nurse lead him to his first room, and she followed after, unable to resist seeing the show. Through the sliding glass door of the private hospital room, Lisbon watched in wonder as Jane, aka Saint Nick, _ho-ho-ho'd_ and presented the bedbound little boy with a candy cane and a small gift from his bag. He spoke in character, his voice deeper, jollier, asking what little Skylar wanted for Christmas, and whether he had been a good boy. Santa even pulled a coin magically from behind the boy's ear, made it disappear again, much to the amazement of Skylar and his parents, who sat nearby, everyone all smiles.

Jane spent nearly ten minutes with them before telling the child he was off to deliver presents to other good boys and girls while Lisbon scooted away quickly before he could see her. She hid a moment in a sparsely populated waiting room, until Jane entered the room next door to the first. Lisbon slipped out again, and on impulse, stopped an orderly who was wearing a Santa hat.

"I'll give you twenty bucks for the hat," she said breathlessly.

"Sold," he said enthusiastically, pulling it off his bald head.

Lisbon paid the man and followed after Santa, putting the hat on as she went. She had worn a red blouse today in honor of the holiday, and hoped that would allow her to pass for Santa's helper. Slipping off her jacket and draping it over her arm, she waited until Jane left the second child's room, observing his interaction with a wide smile and watery eyes. She met him as he walked out of the hospital room, where he stopped dead in his tracks. His face lost all color at the sight of her, then his cheeks became red again, rather like roses.

 _So much for keeping my distance_ , she thought, ignoring her earlier vow. But she couldn't resist.

"Lisbon," he said. "What-?" His eyes drifted up to her hat in awe.

She savored his speechlessness-it was a rare thing that anyone could take Patrick Jane by surprise-and she felt her own face flush.

"Hi. Is this where new elves apply?"

His white teeth suddenly became visible again beneath his mustache, and his eyes regained their twinkle. "Why, yes, it is. Follow me. You're late."

For ten more rooms, she accompanied Santa Jane. She took over the gift duties, rooting around in the black bag, giving the boys red wrapped presents, the girls green, as Santa had whispered she do.

"Cane me," he'd say, holding out his hand for a candy cane. The first time he'd said it, Jane had met her eyes in amusement as she looked startled at his request, then she handed him the peppermint candy with a smirk.

The joy on the children's faces at each visit was heartwarming, touching, humbling. Jane made a perfect Santa Claus, and Lisbon recalled that he had naturally many of the qualities one associated with the Christmas icon, especially an innate love for children. Lisbon herself was rather conflicted about Santa, ever since she'd found out he didn't really exist when she was nine, but seeing Jane in this role, seeing his caring and love reflected in the eyes of the sick kids, made her begin to rethink her bitterness about the lies we tell our children. Some lies, she realized, came from pure motives.

The last room they entered was dimly lit, and a little girl lay alone in her room, hooked up to a variety of tubes, sleeping deeply. They stood silently, both saddened at the sight of a child so terribly sick, alone in a hospital bed at Christmas. Lisbon set a gift on the wheeled tray by her bed, while Jane reached out and touched the girl's pale cheek with a white gloved hand.

"Isn't this hard for you?" Lisbon asked softly, imagining how Jane must have been with his own little girl at Christmas.

Jane turned from the girl to look at her, his eyes suspiciously misty. "Yes," he said honestly. "But if I hadn't started doing this that first Christmas, I would have crawled into a bottle and never come out."

Teresa nodded, her throat tight. Suddenly compelled, she tiptoed up and kissed his cheek, her eyes drifting closed to hide her emotion, her hands gripping the softness of his red coat. She felt the tickle of his curly beard against her skin.

"What was that for?" he asked hoarsely as she stepped back reluctantly from his warmth.

"Because you make me want to believe in Santa again."

Jane smiled, and she felt him slip something into her hand.

"I'm glad, because he stops coming when you stop believing."

She looked down at her hand where he'd placed a small, oblong box wrapped in blue paper. This obviously hadn't come from Santa's black bag.

"Open it," he prompted.

She tore the pretty foil wrapping, opening the box to find a dainty gold watch with a filigreed bracelet band, obviously antique.

"Oh, Jane," she gasped. "It's beautiful."

It was not practical by any means, and she would have to wind it every day, but it was the most elegant watch she had ever owned. She turned it over, saw that it was engraved. She looked up at him askance, then held it up closer to her eyes so she could read it in the dim light of the hospital room.

"That was already on there," Jane told her, seeming suddenly uncomfortable. "I uh, actually didn't even notice it until after I brought it home."

 _Forever yours, J._

He cleared his throat, trying to make light. "Funny coincidence, eh?"

Lisbon thought about throwing back his usual words: there's no such thing as coincidence, but she merely smiled to ease his discomfort, and then she realized with wide eyes that despite the personal message, he had given the watch to her anyway.

At that moment, a nurse came in the room, startled to find Santa and his helper standing close together, whispering in the sick child's room.

"Oh," she said. "I didn't think anyone was in here." She noted the gift on the table, then set about checking the child's vitals, looking at the IV level.

"Well, I guess we should be going, eh, Santa?" said Lisbon awkwardly, her heart still pounding from Jane's gift, from his nearness, from her impulsive kiss.

"Merry Christmas to you both," said the nurse. "And thank you for coming. I know the kids up and down the hall are still talking about your visit."

They left the room quietly, a bit melancholy now. Still, they waved to the nurses at their desk, called out Happy Holidays, and found the elevators. Jane reached out and pressed the down button.

Lisbon remembered her gift, still clutched in her hand. A sudden thought occurred. "Hey, how did you know to bring my gift with you? It wasn't in the bag, so you must have had it in your pocket somewhere…"

He shrugged, then his usual grin returned, his lips disappearing into his beard.

"Next time, you should pull back into that alley just a little farther, Lisbon, or maybe drive an unfamiliar vehicle. I would think that was _Cop Surveillance 101_."

"You saw me?"

The elevator dinged and the door slid open, a few surprised passengers grinning at the waiting Santa as they disembarked. He gave them a jolly "Merry Christmas!" before he and Lisbon disappeared inside the elevator.

Alone again, Jane glanced at his annoyed partner. "I had a feeling this would finally be the year when you couldn't stand the mystery anymore and would follow me."

"I was worried, Jane. I really wasn't going to interfere unless something was wrong."

"I know, Lisbon. I wish now that I had told you about this years ago. It was fun having you with me."

"Yes, it _was_ fun. And rewarding. Can I come with you next year?"

"I'd like that." He met her eyes almost shyly, and Lisbon blushed anew.

In the warm silence that followed before the elevator reached the first floor, Lisbon's stomach growled with embarrassing insistence.

Jane chuckled. "I guess you didn't get a chance to have that case closed pizza."

"No. But now that I know your secret, that offer is still open for you to share it with me."

They exited the elevator, and Jane walked beside her down the hall. "Okay. Sure. I'm a bit peckish myself."

He stopped at the men's room again. "Let me just slip into something more comfortable. I found out the hard way I can't get into my car with this big belly." He patted his padded stomach in amusement.

She laughed. "All right. I'll meet you at Joseppi's down the street."

He hesitated, then reached up to adjust the hat she'd forgotten she was wearing. He met her eyes, and Lisbon felt the usual frisson of awareness. Satisfied with the hat's new jaunty angle, he winked at her.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa. And thank you for worrying about me."

She was saved from answering as he slipped inside the bathroom to change. Lisbon put her jacket on, then put Jane's gift on her wrist. It fit perfectly. She thought of the engraved message pressed close to her skin, praying that what it said would turn out to be more than just a coincidence.

Then, from inside the excellent acoustics of the bathroom, she heard the echo of Santa Jane's singing, slightly off key, with an Elvis-like tone:

"You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry. Better not pout, I'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town…"

Smiling to herself, Lisbon went out into the rain, humming the next few lines as she sprinted to her car.

 **THE END**

A/N: Merry Christmas to you all!

 **PS: If you would like some ghosts of my Christmas fics past, you might check out "Christmas Nookie," "Another Mentalist Mistletoe Fic," "Red Garland" or "Scarlet Ribbons" (not the tag). There are also a couple of Christmasy series sequels, like "Red and Green" and "Red Velvet Box," and a Thanksgiving fic, "Red Ryder."**


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